Good. Seher had read his mind, then, was satisfied they were close.
Grimly, Marcus ducked his head to avoid a low branch. Speed was of the essence. George Junior was too far ahead for them to warn Tahn he was coming, but they could still join the fight.
Tahn would be at battle by now, and Marcus wouldn’t miss it for the world. A familiar old battle lust crept through Marcus’s bones. It wasn’t a want to kill—he hated that as much as Julianne and her mystics.
This was a craving for fast, precise movement, danger that heightened the senses. The noise and confusion that would melt away as he found his center, like all good fighters, and embrace the years of training he had gone through.
Hearing a low rumble ahead, Marcus yanked on his reins and his horse skidded to a stop, the others halting beside him. One hand up, he gestured for them to listen.
“Battle,” Julianne said softly.
Despite her hate for a wasted life, Marcus could see the flush of excitement on her cheeks, even under the washed-out colors of the moonlit night.
“I’ll race you,” he said.
Before he could move, her horse bounded onto the road ahead of him, kicking a cloud of road dust up in his face.
“Oh, you’re on, mystic!” he muttered. With a wild grin, he set off after her.
By the time he had caught up, she had already met with her first opponent. A clean swipe with her staff felled the surprised soldier.
It’s getting hairy up there, Julianne sent to Marcus. Garrett is trapped near the wall, south of the main road in. See to him. Stupid rearick.
Nodding, Marcus peeled off in a southerly direction. He could easily make out the cluster of soldiers who had separated from the rest of the army, bunched up beneath a glossy white wall.
Where the fuck did that come from? Marcus wondered as he headed towards it. Just as he pulled back to slow his horse, a loud, warbling cry erupted from the middle of the pack.
“Garrett!" he yelled, just as an armored fighter was thrown back form the others. Marcus aimed his magitech rifle and pressed the button on the side. It landed square in the back of a man trying to reach over his companions with a lance.
Marcus’s target crumpled, his armor now sporting a deep, crumpled indentation surrounded by scorch marks.
The blinding flash was enough to catch the attention of the other soldiers. Some turned, and Marcus whacked the nearest across the jaw. He, too, fell to the ground.
Pivoting to avoid a sharp sword aimed for his throat, then darting away from a lance, Marcus yelled again. “Rearick?”
“Don’t ye fucking DARE steal my kills, ye piss-born son of a donkey-faced prostitute.”
How does he have the breath to swear like that? Marcus jabbed at another fighter, then shoved him back with a boot planted in the chest.
He debated tossing his weapon—it wasn’t suited for close combat, it took too long to recharge. Still, he didn’t relish being on the other end of it.
Using the blunt, useless weapon to punch a man in the balls, Marcus took a running jump. He leaped over the bent-over soldier, used him as a platform, and threw himself towards the wall.
He landed, fell forwards and tumbled to his feet.
“I fucking told ye, fuck off!” Garrett panted. He stabbed his sword, disemboweling one soldier while Marcus throat-punched his neighbor.
“Juliane sent me over. Said you’re trapped. And stupid.” Now back to back with Garrett, the two started inching their way out of the cluster of fighting and away from the pile of bodies Garrett had amassed.
“Aye, that’s likely ta be—here, take that to the face, ye boil-faced pimple licker—true. Never was known fer me brains.”
“You gonna tell me what you were doing?” Marcus asked.
Garrett stopped and looked at him, kicking a heavy boot at the knee of a man who got too close. “I’m counting me kills, ye dumb twat! Make sure ye take note of yer own, I don’t want Bette thinkin’ I cheated!”
“Right.” Realizing what was going on—some kind of rivalry between the two—Marcus focused on the fighting. There were only four men left now.
Marcus’s weapon whirred, and he shot it again, this time annihilating a man’s face. A moment later, another soldier burst into flames.
“What was—ahh, FUCK! I was just about to kill that one! Who the fuck did that? I’ll fucking kill him.” Garrett looked around, wild-eyed, as the three remaining enemies looked at each other, then bolted for the safety of the army. He threw his arms in the air. “And now ye fucking scared the pussies away.”
He took off running after them, Marcus hot on his heels. Soon they were joined by a third man—Francis.
“If that were you setting me targets on fire, yer dead when this is over,” Garrett gasped. He stumbled to a stop, and Marcus and Francis looked at him in alarm. Hands on knees, he took three gasping breaths, then shot off again.
“Not me. I couldn’t do that, not in a million years!” Francis protested.
“Must be Jakob,” Marcus said. He eyed Francis, the only one of them that wasn’t almost blue from lack of air.
“Who the fuck is Jakob?” Garrett asked. “Never mind. He’ll be dead Jakob when I’m done.”
They slammed into the main fighting force again, then scrambled back as three wolves leaped in beside them.
“The fuck?” Marcus asked.
The wolves ripped into George’s soldiers, sending globs of flesh and blood into the air.
“Oh, Bastard,” Garrett moaned. “The dogs are on our side, aren’t they?”
“Seher brought a nature magician with her, so… I hope so?” Even Marcus was feeling a little green.
“We need to get to the wall,” Francis said. He couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from the gory sight ahead. “They were climbing through the gap. That’s why I came to get you, rearick.”
“Yeah,” Garrett murmured. “Let’s be moving on, aye?”
Chapter Forty
Julianne struck a solider with her staff. He grunted and doubled over in pain. A moment later he toppled, collapsing into a sleeping heap as Julianne’s eyes cleared.
I’m coming for you, August. She sent the words to all the sweating, panting, heaving souls around her. August wouldn’t hear it—he would be blocked, for sure. It would scare the shit out of anyone who could, though, and fear like that was infectious.
More than one man looked up, hackles raised as the whisper filtered through the battle rage.
I’m coming, and I will crush you and all who follow you.
She grabbed the mind of a man nearby and made him stop fighting. He stood, watching and feeling as a Tahn fighter slit his throat.
She stole the will of another, and he jumped out of her way. Then, another. Like a parting of the seas, Julianne walked through the battle untouched as men scrambled to make way for her.
She knew where he lurked on the other side of the battle, tucked in amongst his posse of mind-fucking mystics, all bonded in groups of three to reinforce their shields.
She couldn’t sense them, but that little pocket of impenetrable nothing in the middle of the press of minds was conspicuous in itself.
When I find you, will I let the dogs tear your face off? Will I give you to the birds to strip clean?
She had heard the dogs and seen Mathias’s glowing green eyes. Perhaps the soldiers had, too. One dropped his sword, looked around in a panic, and ran.
“Was that one you?” Madam Seher asked quietly.
Julianne shook her head minutely. The old woman was shielded tight and invisible under a spell that would force people not to notice her. She kept close to Julianne, out of the way of the soldiers.
I’m here, August. It’s time. Time to face your sins.
The last few men scrambled out of her way without any nudging needed. They saw her eyes, heard her words. None were willing to stand against this beacon of justice that was coming for their corrupt leaders.
One man stood between her and August. A
mystic, his eyes white and stance steady. The only man willing to face her.
Julianne lifted her staff and brought it down on his head and he folded to the ground.
A burst of magical energy, assisted by a whispered phrase, sent the surrounding soldiers running in terror. Black hands clutched at their hearts, ripped at their dreams as they stumbled away, weeping and screaming.
“August.”
All that remained were four mystics, August, and a white-faced, sniveling Lord George. The Third, Julianne amended silently. What little she knew of his father made her wonder how his prodigy had turned out so poorly.
August fell back, trembling. “You can’t touch me,” he said. “You can’t break my shields.”
“A shield.” Julianne launched forwards, slamming her staff on the shoulder of a woman in blue. “Is only.” She whipped sideways, winding another. “As good.” Jabbing forwards, she cracked the ribs of a man. “As its owner.” In a final whirlwind, she struck the last man in the head.
Hearing a swish, Julianne glanced back to see Madam Seher removing a thin dagger from the throat of the soldier who’d tried to sneak up on her. She nodded her thanks.
August yelped, realizing his shield was no longer reinforced. “George? George, I demand you help me. Kill her!”
“A shield is only as good as its owner,” George said, baring yellow teeth in an evil grin. Julianne dropped the compulsion, and he sank to his knees, shaking. “Oh, fuck, she’s in my head!” he whimpered. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Clearly, George had been relying on his innate ability to shield for some time, and hadn’t realized how fragile it really was.
“August, you stand charged with tyranny, despotism, and the complete disregard of Temple stricture. How plead you?”
“I didn’t… he made me do it!” August trembled, and he sucked in a sharp breath, phlegm catching in his throat.
“Rogan never visited Tahn. Don’t blame him for your actions there. How do you plead?”
“I didn’t—” August’s clothes erupted into flames. He screamed, clutching at the fabric and dropping to the ground, kicking in agony as his hair caught fire. The stench of burning flesh filled Julianne's nostrils, and she cut the sensation off.
“Who was that?” Seher snapped.
Francis stepped out of the watching crowd, one had raised as he twisted his fingers in a tight circle. Heat billowed as the flames flared blue. August’s cries dissipated as his body cooked.
No one spoke until he was nothing but a charred pile of bone and ash, toothy skull staring up with an eerie grin.
Francis walked over and stomped on the blackened head. It crumbled into dust. “He killed my Danielle.” He turned to Julianne. “It wasn’t my place, but I won’t apologize.”
“I am not your ruler,” Julianne said. “I am not judge, nor jury. It was not my place to decide his fate. You are the voice of this town, and the people he hurt. It was your place, and your right.”
Francis looked to the sky, where smoke still trailed from the extinguished fire. A tear slid down his cheek. “I did it, Danielle. He won’t hurt anyone again.”
Then, he walked away into the city, disappearing behind the bright, white wall.
Chapter Forty-One
Garrett knocked back his drink in one long pull, then wiped the foam from his whiskers. “So, it’s a tie, then?" he asked.
Bette slumped. “Fine. It’s a tie. I suppose yer a reasonable fighter after all.”
Danil sank his head into his hands. “What the hell are we going to do?”
“About the New Dawn?” Julianne asked. “I don’t know.”
“No, about those two!” Danil shook a hand at the rearick. Garrett looked offended, Bette just grinned. “Next thing you know they’ll be marching to bloody Muir to see who can kill Rogan first!”
Bette sat up. “Aye, now that’s an idea!”
Julianne laughed. “Glad you’ll be at my side. It won’t be an easy fight.”
Marcus rubbed his face. “Really? We ran all that way to get from Muir to Tahn, and now you’re gonna make me go back?”
She nodded. “This time we’ll make a better plan, though. And we’ll have help.”
“Aye, lassie, that ye will!” Garrett slammed his mug down and gestured for Mary to bring a refill. When Bette kicked him, he groaned and stood. “Fine, I’ll get it. Who else needs another?”
As he strolled away to the bar to ask for three more ales, Julianne rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“Ye did a good thing, Julianne,” Bette whispered. “But I don’t think ye know how good. This town was more than saved. Ye liberated it. Not from the Dawn itself, but from the memory of them, from the feeling of being helpless.”
Julianne’s eyes burned and her throat ached. She had worried so much about dragging the fragile village into a battle so soon after what they had faced. It was good to know she had done the right thing.
They hadn’t won the war yet, but they would. She was sure of it.
FINIS
Author Notes - Amy Hopkins
September 28, 2017
*waves excitedly* Hi guys! Wow, I’m so super incredibly excited today! Dawn of Destiny (the book before this one) is due to release TOMORROW! For you guys, that’s at least a week ago. Or more, because I live in the land of tomorrow, thanks to crazy time zones.
If you’re confused, join the club!
So, I’m sitting (pacing) calmly (frantically) while sipping water (hot water, with coffee, milk and sugar added) and waiting for the world to see my new story. By the time you get to these notes, you’ll know if you love Julianne or hate her. I’m guessing you at least like her a bit, if you got this far.
My little team is so much fun to play with. Bette just kicks ass and doesn’t stop to apologise, and in a lot of ways, is like the prim and proper Annie. Danil and Marcus are a bit alike, but Bastian I think will turn out to be a lot smarter than most of them expected. Though the school he wants to set up is just a wish for now, I’d like to make it happen one day in the future.
Book three is still coming along quickly, after a few days interruption because of some very sick kids. I’m getting it done as fast as I can, so I can… you know, write another one!
I’m really looking forwards to next year in the KGU - when we move, my smallest kid will start kindy, and I’ll have a couple of days every week JUST for writing! Which is great, because I’ve got sooo many more book ideas for Tahn and the mystics!
I guess I’d better run, but before I go, a quick update on the epic battle I’m fighting with Michael… I think I lost. It was close, but his poor taste has spread like a wonky nanocyte and infected too many for us to stand against him. Pineapple pizza lost.
-Amy
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
October 5, 2018
Thank you, I cannot express my appreciation enough that not only did you pick up the fifth book, but you read it all the way to the end and NOW, you’re reading this as well. Since this book is part of a series, I am presuming you have blessed us by reading them both and what a fantastic feeling that is for any author!
I’m going to speak a bit about Amy and her ride this last week or so and to do that, I have to give you some behind-the-scenes information to set this up.
First, when we set up a book for sale, we have three pages of information to fill out. That information includes the title, series name, authors / editors / forward (if you want to add any of this) the blurb, keyword search terms, two categories, the book file, the cover file (separate), publisher information and finally price information.
You set another couple of preferences (inside Kindle Unlimited or not) and earning percentage (35% or 70%). It might seem a bit odd, “Why not always choose 70%?”
Well, if you have a book priced between $0.99 (the lowest) and $2.98 or more than $9.99 you MUST choose 35%. One of the benefits of 35% is Amazon does not charge us a fee for each download of the book. Typically, for a 70,000 word book with a file s
ize for the cover of about 800k or so, we will be charged $0.05 per download.
However, if we have something with a LOT of pictures, we could choose to pay 35% and not be charged for the download fees which have the possibility of causing us to lose money on those books.
Once we have all of this information plugged in, we hit a “Submit” button and Amazon SWOOSHES it away to be placed “In Review.”
If we have offered the appropriate sacrifices, don’t have anything that looks wrong to the Amazon algorithms, the queue to be reviewed is short then we could have our books out in an hour or two and working to be sold around the world.
That’s damned impressive!
But, occasionally something doesn’t go to plan and a book is perhaps flagged for more review or we just have bad luck and it takes FOREVER. (Which, to us is anything over 45 minutes.)
Now, I get back to Amy.
Amy lives in Australia, so she is already one day ahead of us most of the time and when she is anxiously awaiting a Friday release, that’s pretty much Saturday to her.
So, we setup and release her first book last week and she is already exhausted, but excited to see it go up on the store.
The only problem is it didn’t release quickly. So, Amy is already tired, a day ahead and Amazon isn’t pushing our book out.
Hour after hour she waits, biting her nails. Finally, she has to succumb to exhaustion and sleep. It took FOREVER for the book to come out, and when it did, it’s already Saturday here in the states.
Not a great day to release a new book, by the way.
However, she has an excellent attitude and a really wonderful spirit and I have to say I’m blessed to be collaborating with her, CM Raymond and LE Barbant on the New Dawn series.
Thank you Amy, for your patience, your humor and your sarcastic and funny-as-hell Australian wit!
A New Dawn- Complete series Page 39